


Morning of the Moon

by littl_prince



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, POC Snape, POV Raeun Snape, POV Remus Lupin, Trans Character, Trans Snape Week, Trans Snape Week 2020, in this house we love the moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27778765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littl_prince/pseuds/littl_prince
Summary: “Oh.” The wolf stopped in his tracks. He gazed into the eyes of the person standing in front of him. “I know you.”The woman was in robes of black, with silver hems on the sleeves and neckline. Dressed like the moonlit night the werewolf feared so much. Her hair was long and her eyes could cut through steel, and when she opened her mouth, she sneered.“From school,” she acknowledged.(This is a work made for @snapelovepost's Trans Snape Week! Sensitivity read by @snapescapades on Tumblr <3)
Relationships: Raeun Snape/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

Hogwarts was as he remembered it.

His arms had started to hurt a bit from lugging his bags along behind him. Walking up the path to the castle, where he spotted wheel tracks from countless trips of horseless carriages, he gazed ahead at the iron-wrought gates, and wondered if he would be able to find any memories he had left inside.

A visit to the Headmaster’s office, required; he had been inside it a few times when he was a student, and not much had changed there, either.

“As we discussed, Professor Snape will be preparing the wolfsbane for you each month.” There was a twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes, and he wondered for a fleeting moment if they were testing him. “I’d advise you to pay a visit to Horace Slughorn’s old office down in the dungeons, to discuss the details. Do you remember where it is?”

He did.

As he walked down into cooler and damper air, he wondered if he should have perhaps picked out better clothes. It had been years, after all. A good impression would not hurt; it might convince the old school rival not to murder him.

He saw someone coming up the stairs from below, saw that it wasn’t a student, and squinted to get a better look.

“Oh.” The wolf stopped in his tracks. He gazed into the eyes of the person standing in front of him. “I know you.”

The woman was in robes of black, with silver hems on the sleeves and neckline. Dressed like the moonlit night the werewolf feared so much. Her hair was long and her eyes could cut through steel, and when she opened her mouth, she sneered.

“From school,” she acknowledged.

* * *

By the time one got used to the occupant in the Defense professor’s chair, they would have to leave for some reason or another. This time, Raeun sincerely hoped that that day would come in sooner than a year.

For the hundredth time over, she wondered what in Merlin’s name Dumbledore was thinking, hiring someone like Remus Lupin as a school teacher. Even ignoring the threat of his old friend, surely some student would piece things together and figure out his condition.

And on top of all the other things she hated about him, because of him she now had one more gruelling task to do throughout this year. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate already.

“Do it for the students,” the Headmaster had said.

She might have told him,  _ “If you’d really been for the students you wouldn’t have hired him in the first place,” _ but she hadn’t. She knew the old man wouldn’t listen to her anyway.

“Come in,” she said curtly, when they reached her office door. “I’ll go over the arrangements and details, then you can leave.”

“Didn’t you have somewhere to go?”

She could barely hear the boy in the man’s voice. But there was a familiarity there that near disarmed her, something she recognized that she hadn’t realized she remembered. She couldn’t tell if the hoarseness was temporary or not. He sounded concerned, as if he was worried he was posing a burden.  _ As if you aren’t either way. _

“No,” she snapped.

She would have to bring the potion for him to drink starting from a little less than a week later. The moon was still a sickle in the sky.

* * *

“Raeun.” He had learned her name from listening to the other professors in the staff room.

She looked over — for half a second she looked surprised — and glared at him from the seat next to his. She looked at home at the staff table, and Remus found he was envious.

“What is it, Lupin?”

“I was just wondering — the Headmaster told me you had the files on the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculums…”

When he had heard the information, he had had to take a moment to think about how in the world his luck was going south so quickly — on top of the next full moon lasting into the start of term night, of all days. Snape had been difficult since the moment they had met. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected that, but for some reason he still couldn’t stop the stabbing feeling in his chest whenever she turned her ice cold gaze on him.

Now, Snape sighed so forcefully Remus thought the table just might cave in.

“You can expect to find your files on your chair at dinnertime today,” she said, voice chipped and tone brokering no further discussion.

“Oh, alright,” said Remus. “Thank you.”

He had wanted to ask about some details, remembering how wildly different his professors had been back in school, in both teaching style and skill. He supposed he would just have to figure that out for himself.

After about a minute or so, he heard another deep sigh from beside him, and Snape spoke.

“I shall include notations on the previous five years.” She said the words as if they were causing her great suffering. Years and years ago, Remus might have laughed about that; now he felt pathetic and burdensome. Small. “It wouldn’t do for you to cause the students to be more confused than they need be.”

“No,” he said, trying his best to keep the mortification out of his voice. “Thank you very much, for your trouble.”

“I’m not doing it for you, Lupin.”

Another stab through the chest. For a split second, he was sorely tempted to snap back at her. 

“I know,” he said instead, keeping his tone as neutral as he could manage.

There was silence between them for a couple of minutes. Remus attempted to go about finishing his meal as if nothing was wrong, but Snape’s presence beside him was almost palpable. It had felt like that since he had arrived, but at first he had thought it was just because of the dissonance; of old familiarity clashing with the decade and a half they had spent apart. 

And Snape was the same, with her glares and jabs and sullen silences. It was Remus who had changed, who had been chipped away at, worn down, and now he was all ragged robes with nothing inside worth noting. He wondered if Snape felt it too; she must. He inadvertently shrank a bit away from her.

They had never had anything resembling a conversation during their school years, as far as Remus could recall. It was almost strange, hearing her talk  _ to _ him, acknowledging him with more than a throwaway glare. He wasn’t exactly sure why that seemed to matter to him, when he’d fought to be invisible all his life. 

He risked a glance at Snape. She looked completely unbothered, reaching for her goblet. And he wondered how she did it, the question resurfacing through the long years in between.  _ You belong like I never could. _

“What?”

Remus blinked, and refocused on narrowed eyes.

“What do you want, Lupin?”

He saw the moon in her gaze. That was it, he realized; that must be what had always made him look away, turn his head. It lingered like a reflection in her sharp gaze, and her black eyes seemed to glint silver.

“Nothing,” he said, looking the other way.

* * *

It was the last week before students would arrive, which before had always meant a last moment of respite. Now it meant having to go to the werewolf’s office every day to give him the potion. Well, she didn’t exactly have to go to his office — he had offered to come down to hers — but she wouldn’t trust the man to tie his own shoelaces properly. 

She knocked on his office door on the twenty-fifth of August, rather late in the evening. She hadn’t wanted to have to see any more faces about than necessary. The door opened.

“You really needn’t come,” the werewolf said. She could see traces of the teenager she had known in the man’s face, and she hated him. “Really, it’s already too much trouble for —”

“Just take the potion, Lupin, I’m not here to exchange small talk,” she snapped. She thrust the goblet at him and turned around without another word.

“Thank you,” she heard him calling at her retreating form. She did not acknowledge it.

Back inside her office, she crossed the room as she ulnaced her  _ goreums _ and shook off her outer robe, throwing it towards her chair. Then she bent down and whispered a spell, and one of the lower drawers clicked open. She reached inside.

Back when she was very young, she used to carry the pearl around with her, terrified of losing it. During her teenage years, she had been terrified of it getting stolen. Now she had some semblance of privacy and security, for which she knew she probably shouldn’t be as grateful as she was.

The marble fit comfortably in her hand. She turned it around in her palm. It glowed silver where she touched it, but the light within was still somewhat dull. She usually counted down the days in her head, waiting for the light to brighten up again. Now the pearl reminded her of something else. She grimaced and set it back inside the shelf.

When she had first heard she would have to be making the potion for Lupin, she had had a split second’s thought that he should make it for himself if he needed it so much. Then she’d remembered that he had been mediocre at best in potions while they were in school, and his skills would certainly not have gotten better since. She hated that she knew even that much about him.

She had lost count of the number of times he’d said “thank you” to her just the past few days. Even that annoyed her to no end. During her hours of worry about what would happen once they started living in the same castle again, she had told herself that, if it came to it, she would hold the help she gave him over his head. But she had quickly found out she couldn’t even do that, not when he was already doing it to himself.

She was still waiting for him to drop the act. He had been proving more persistent than she’d expected; he hadn’t even slipped up once as of yet. He would smile whenever he thanked her, which always caught her off guard; she sincerely hoped it didn’t show.

She saw the sun in his smile. That was it. Perhaps that was what made her uncomfortable each time. The sun that did not vanish, unless you ran and hid in the shadows. Except for that time in the Great Hall, when he had turned his head away from her. For some reason, that memory made her avoid making eye contact with him from that point on; as if she was afraid of something. That it would happen again.

That idea was absurd, though.

The light from the pearl had dimmed now that she wasn’t holding it. She gazed at it for a moment before sliding in and locking the drawer as usual. This Chuseok would be on a blue moon. Despite everything, she could not wait.

* * *

“What are you doing here?”

Remus had expected the black eyes to be glaring at him when the door opened, but he still blinked at the hostile tone. He wished he could be as unshakeable as Snape seemed to be.

“For the potion,” he said. “Like I said before, you’re already doing so much. Coming down to take it is the least I could do.”

“You think you’re being helpful, Lupin.” Her pitch black eyes held silver again, the glint of a blade, or — perhaps — an orb behind clouds. “I assure you, you’re being nothing but an annoyance. Go.”

“I could just stand outside while you bring it out,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm and amicable. Now she was just being difficult for the sake of it. “I won’t invade your privacy. Surely it’d be less work for you that way.”

She glowered from the doorway for another moment, then disappeared back inside, closing the door behind her with a snap. Remus did not hear a single sound from within the office, and he stood where he was, waiting for her to return.

After a full minute had passed, still with no indication of Snape returning, he wondered if this was his cue to just leave. He felt familiar sinking in his stomach, unbidden, and told himself he should have seen it coming. And he should have. He turned, and started to walk down the corridor.

Then he heard a door open from behind them.

Even as part of his mind whispered that he would be foolish to hope, he whipped around. He met eyes with Snape, who was standing slightly outside the office with a goblet in her hand.

“Thank you.” Remus jogged over to her. He recognized a sudden lump in his throat and, trying not to look too horrified, attempted to gulp it down as he approached. He tugged the usual bland smile back on.

Snape had a strange look on her face. Remus thought she might say something to him, but after a moment she moved to hand him the goblet wordlessly.

The potion tasted absolutely awful. Remus had hoped he might get used to the taste each day, but he was only getting more and more hesitant to lift the goblet to his lips. He grimaced as he swallowed and wondered what he should do with the empty goblet. Maybe he should carry it up to his office.

“Give the goblet back to me.” Snape gestured for it, and Remus gave a small start before handing it over. She was still eyeing him with a look on her face he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Thank you,” Remus said again. He suddenly felt tongue-tied; Snape’s gaze seemed less murderous than all the previous times they had met eyes. But of course, that could all just be in his head.

“You need not bother to come down,” she said slowly. “It’s close to the full. You’re needlessly overexerting yourself.”

Remus sighed. “But I really —”

“No.”

* * *

Lupin spotted the pearl sitting on her desk the next day, when he came down to her office for the potion again — the man was insufferable. She had not thought much of leaving the pearl out; she was sure he would have heard about it from the rest of the staff in any case. 

But she saw that his eyes lingered on it, perhaps a bit more wide open than usual. She was puzzled for a moment, knowing it must not be because the implication was new to him. Then,  _ It reminds him of the moon, _ she realized. For a second before she caught herself, she wondered what it was like for him to look up at the night sky.

“You know what it is,” she said, as she brought out the goblet.

“Yes.”

Lupin smiled the way he always did as he reached to take the goblet, and Raeun watched him grimace as he downed the potion in one go. She shooed him out of the office right after.

The next day, she managed to go up to his office before he managed to sneak down to hers. 

“Does it bother you?” she asked without preamble, as soon as he had finished drinking.

Lupin blinked, the shadow of a wince still on his face from the potion.

“What?” he said. 

“Me being a  _ Gumiho _ .”

“Oh,” Lupin shook his head. “No. Did it ever come off like that? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she snapped. Lupin had been almost tolerable these past couple of days; now the annoyance was back in its full form.

“So I didn’t —?”

“No,” she said, and paused. “But you don’t like the moon.”

She felt Lupin’s gaze, and despite herself she looked up to meet his eyes.

“The moon’s a neutral force,” said Lupin, by way of answer. “And I don’t know enough about Nine-Tailed Foxes to be having this conversation,” he added, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping him.

There it was, acting like everything was his fault. It seemed he’d decided to be endlessly annoying this evening. Raeun sighed.

“That’s fine,” she said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “We’re not even around these parts much.”

“I suppose not.”

They looked at each other. The sun that perpetually seemed to be in Lupin’s eyes seemed to have disappeared behind clouds. She’d found that she hated when it did that. After a moment, Lupin opened his mouth hesitantly.

“You were always a fox,” he said.

Raeun blinked. “You knew that.”

“I did.”

“How?”

“I saw you.”

“You… When?”

“I think you know.”

She blinked again, then she thought she might indeed know.

“On a full moon night.”

“Yes. Near where I was. I… saw you shift forms.”

She looked over at him. He looked smaller. He looked like a schoolboy again. It made her defensive.

“What did you expect me to do? Your lot…”

“It scared me, you know.” Lupin had hung his head. “That you were… trying to find me out.”

“You had leverage, or so you’re telling me now.”

He laughed, and it was all bitterness and sorrow. It dug down to her bones and she hated that she couldn’t bring herself to think  _ How dare he. _

“That’s not the same thing at all,” he said. 

“Still, I would have preferred it not to get out. It was of no consequence to me that it didn’t, anyway.”  _ And you and your friends would have found an excuse to twist it. _ She knew she needn’t voice it, but she still could have said it, rubbed it in. But Lupin still looked small, and when he spoke again his voice was low and full of shame.

“I wouldn’t have told. You know I wouldn’t have.”

“I don’t know much of anything about you, really.”

Maybe she was being too harsh, she thought. But she wasn’t, not considering what she had gone through at his hands. _ Well, not his hands.  _ But it amounted to the same thing.

Lupin was silent for a long time. His head was still bowed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

Raeun didn’t reply. After a few moments, Lupin spoke again.

“I thought I was stuck, with… with them. And I told myself I was happy.”

“Well, I’m glad that worked for you.”

“I…” Raeun thought he might be crying; with him hunched over like that she couldn’t really tell. “This is no excuse, I know that, but. I don’t think they would have listened, I don’t… The few times I did tell them, they brushed it off. I thought I couldn’t stop them anyways.”

“They didn’t listen to you.”

“No.”

“You stayed by them still.”

“They were… the only people I had.”

Raeun didn’t say anything. She realized she had done the same thing during her school years, and for the same reason.

And bizarrely, her heart ached.  _ Had things been different. _

But it was a pointless thought. She was sure he would never have seen an escape in her, anyway.

“I’ll leave you now, Lupin,” she said.

Lupin looked up, apparently a bit startled, then he dropped his gaze again as if catching himself. He didn’t answer.

Maybe she should have said something, she thought to herself as she walked down the corridor. She hadn’t expected him to start talking about himself like that, including some things she hadn’t known about. She’d always assumed — well, she’d known that Pettigrew had been a tagalong — but she’d thought the other three had all been in on it together. But the way Lupin had spoken about it, it seemed she had been wrong about him.

_ He could have been lying. _

_ For what purpose would he lie? _

_ I’m making the wolfsbane for him. He could be worried I might contaminate it. _

_ Does he think that lowly of me? _

_ Does that matter? _

The surge of hate she’d consistently felt the first week since seeing him again had inexplicably vanished, replaced by a kind of frustration she could not quite place. 

When she lay in bed that night and closed her eyes she saw the waxing moon, and for the first time in her life it was cold and unfeeling.

* * *

“Why do you always act like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re some kind of martyr. Like you’d let people step all over you. It’s infuriating — and don’t you dare say you’re sorry.”

Remus cracked a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Were you always like that?” Raeun scowled at him. “Or is it new? Or are you putting on an act?”

It was the last night before the full moon. They were in Raeun’s office. Remus wondered what life in the dungeons would be like, where one couldn’t even see the sun. But then, he would like not having to see the moon each night. The pearl sat on her desk, though — perhaps a reminder.

“I don’t know,” he said.

This was the first time their talk had moved into the territory of their school years since two days ago. Remus did not want to make the same mistake as last time, make Raeun leave. He did not want her to leave.

“Well, you should stop doing it,” she said. “At least in front of me. I’m sick of it.”

“I — alright.” The usual vitriol in her voice had been coupled with something else that made his smile falter.

There was a pause before Raeun spoke again. Her voice was low. “You might think you’re taking the high road by acting helpful, and not acknowledging baggage. You’re not. I’d much rather you acted the way you really feel.”

Remus stared at her.

“I wasn’t trying to… act like I was taking the high road,” he said. “It never occurred to me that it might come off like that.”

“Well, you should take a more careful look at your surroundings. Because acting like that might work with others, but it doesn’t with me.”

“I really — I’m not putting on an act, to —”

“Yes, you are.” Her tone was not accusatory anymore and her eyes were not unkind, and that threw him off more than anything else. There was a small silence before she spoke again; she was watching him.

“You’re hiding. And that will accomplish nothing.”

They stared at each other. Remus had been sure until now that she had been talking about him having malicious intentions, but now he wasn’t so sure about that. Had it been a shift in approach halfway through, or had he been reading it wrong the whole time? He did not know, but he couldn’t look away from those black eyes. And Remus could tell that somehow, for some reason, this Raeun would not leave like the last time.

“I…” Remus paused, second-guessing whether he should say the words now on the tip of his tongue. “I suppose… if you want an answer to your question, I suppose I’ve always been like that. Since I was young.”

“Hm,” said Raeun. “Do you know why?”

“Is there a reason you’re asking?”

Raeun shook her head, almost to herself. She seemed less on edge than usual. The light from the pearl shining on her face morphed and shifted as she moved her head from side to side. Remus watched it and thought it was beautiful.

“I just thought that if I were to endure it, I might at least know the reason.”

Her tone was dry, and Remus chuckled, despite what he was about to say.

“Well,” he said. “It’s been… since I was bitten, as far as I can remember.”

“How old were you?”

“Five.”

Raeun’s eyes widened a little. She nodded wordlessly.

“From then on, I wasn’t really allowed to really… be. I had to hide, because I had to hide my condition — obviously anyone who knew enough about me would be able to figure it out. So I never really… asserted myself, let myself be known. It wasn’t a good thing for me, to be known. I suppose that’s become a part of me since.”

Raeun was still gazing at him.

“You’d rather no one thought you… significant?” she said. 

“Not enough to become curious to know more about me, at least.” Remus met her eyes. “I think it must be… different, for you.”

She blinked slowly, and nodded.

“Yes.” Then, “Your childhood. It must have been quite… solitary.”

“It was.” He chuckled again. “I was lonely.”

“So was I.”

Her gaze was not accusatory, and nor was her tone, but Remus felt a stab in his insides. Regret; he recognized it. It nearly knocked the air out of his lungs.

“I’m —”

“No,” she said. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

He attempted to blink away sudden tears, and stared at her.

“You were young,” she said.

“So were you.”

She nodded, almost contemplatively. After a moment, she opened her mouth again.

“So,” she said, “did you get what you wanted?”

“What I wanted?”

“Not… letting yourself be known.”

Remus shook his head slowly. “That’s not really — that’s not what I wanted. Not really.”

“Then acting like that won’t work,” said Raeun. The tone was that of a person who had just won a debate. “You’ll have to find something else.”

Yet another laugh escaped him, small and a little pathetic.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think it might be a little too late for that.”

“It… might not be.” Raeun was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I haven’t got what I wanted yet either.”

There was another stretch of silence.

“Did we know each other at all?” said Remus.

Raeun scoffed. The moon in her eyes was new, though Remus knew the orb in the sky was half-full. It made his insides twist.

* * *

The start of year feast came, and the chair next to hers was empty. She thought she could hear howls and screams, carried by the air across the castle, seeping its way into the Hall itself. But she knew it was all just in her head.

Yesterday night, she had seen to Lupin’s first transformation.

“I could just… go to the shack, if you feel it might be unsafe,” he had said, eyeing her rather nervously. She wished he wouldn’t do that.

“No. Just knock on the door thrice once you transform. Even that’s just a precaution, I’m certain nothing will happen,” she’d replied, for what felt like the tenth time over.

She had waited for a quarter of an hour outside the office, after Lupin had closed and locked the office door behind him. “Goodnight,” he had said before disappearing behind it.

_ Goodnight, _ Raeun steamed, pacing just outside the door.  _ Goodnight. _ As if this was just another evening, and he was going into his office for a cup of tea before bed.

When the time for moonrise came, she held her breath. If she was telling the truth, she had not been as certain as she’d made out to be in front of Lupin. It wasn’t as if she had doubts in her potion making, but still, this was her first attempt. And you could never trust the recipes in the books.

She knew Lupin had soundproofed the inside of the room, but she was still straining for any trace of sound within. Then, without warning, something had slammed against the office door from the inside, and her heart had stopped still in her chest as she whipped her wand out, ready to burst in at the next hint of noise.

But a silent minute passed, and then she had heard a light pounding on the door, steady and calm. Three times.

The full-on slamming noise must have been made in the throes of his transformation, then. It had sounded like it would have hurt. Her heartbeat had not yet calmed.

She knew she could leave, now that she knew for sure that he had transformed with his human mind intact. But she had still stood in front of the door for another few minutes, at one point even considering opening the office door, to — to do what? To check on him? See if he was alright? 

She had already done more than enough for him, she had told herself, before making her way back to her office and a sleepless night. She had pulled out the pearl again and seen it gleaming bright silver, almost dazzling, but it had failed to cheer her up.

It would still be shining bright inside the cabinet, she knew. Usually she felt much happier on the brightest nights of the month. Now she glanced up to see the imitation of the moon on the ceiling, and the food was tasteless.

It was all Lupin’s fault, she thought. Appearing after all these years, looking so defeated. Like he was fighting a losing battle. She tried to keep the empty seat out of her line of vision if possible.

“What about afterwards?” she had asked him last night. “Do you take anything, for the pain?” The question had been on second thought and she might have rubbed that in, but for some reason she had not wanted it to show. Lupin had looked so very tired already.

“Sometimes.” Lupin had smiled again, and she had known that that meant  _ whenever he could afford it. _

“I could bring one over next morning,” she had said, before she had realized what she was saying.

“I thank you for the offer,” Lupin had replied, looking surprised. “But there’s no need to go through the trouble.”

She absolutely was frustrated with him, she thought as she stabbed at a potato. At first she thought it had been because of his constant apparent effort to have an amicable conversation. But now she’d realized it was more at the fact that… that he always kept her at arm’s length. She didn’t know what he was trying to imply by doing that; every other question he asked her he’d look like he was bracing himself.

Was it her doing? It must be. But he didn’t seem to be making much attempts at connection with other members of the staff either, at least as far as she could see. He did not speak unless he was spoken to, most of the time.

All summer she had been expecting him to swoop in at the start of the year and settle right away, claim her the outsider all over again. In this place that held all her worst memories, she had been waiting for him to remind her of them, for her to be thrown back into that suffocating space where she would be able to rely on only the night sky for respite.

Now she knew that the tables had turned, and she was much better off than him, perhaps had been for quite some time. Years. And she did not feel triumphant about it in the slightest.

The next morning, she left a few labelled bottles outside Lupin’s office, slipping a note under the door detailing the different painkillers, for him to read when he would be well enough to.

* * *

They had little reason to talk for the few weeks since the start of term. Remus found he missed their conversations, even though he could probably count the number of civil exchanges they had had on his fingers.

He had been startled to find the painkillers Snape had left at his door. The note that had apparently been slipped under it. He had recognized her handwriting. That evening, when he had finally gained enough strength to head out of his office, he had dared to think that might be the start of a more easy back-and-forth, a new chapter.

He wished he knew better than to hope. Snape had ignored him all through dinner. He did not try to start a conversation either; he was still wrung out and tired by the recent full, and besides that she had given him enough hints by now. He might as well just give up.

Classes kept his mind occupied for the most part. And he had met Harry. He’d heard the news that he had collapsed on the train to school, but he hadn’t wanted to call attention to it. He was still wondering if he would ever get the chance to talk to him, as something more than professor and student. He supposed he was holding out a foolish hope there, as well.

The weeks before he had arrived at Hogwarts, he’d thought that the most pressing matter when he arrived would be Harry. He had worried over what he might say, if he should even bring up their shared past at all. But all that was now eclipsed by the presence of Raeun, beside him at every meal and yet constantly silent, out of reach.

“What?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“You were staring,” said Raeun, and he had a stray thought of how many days it had been since she’d last spoken to him. “Do you have something to say?”

“Er,” said Remus, “no.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Haven’t had any mishaps in class already, have you?”

“No,” he said again, quickly. “It’s nothing like that.”

He searched for something he might say; he didn’t want the conversation to stop now that it had started.

“I saw you have an accessory,” he said. “On your robes.”

“Oh.” She glanced down and held it up slightly. “Yes, I do. It’s a  _ norigae _ .”

“Oh, I see,” said Remus, still having no idea what it was. “Can I ask if there’s a special occasion coming up?”

“There actually is.” She let the accessory fall again, to dangle from the side of her robes. “On the thirtieth of September.”

_ A full moon. _ “Oh,” Remus said.

“It’s a holiday,” said Raeun, looking at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, “held on the day of the eighth full moon of the lunar year. Often the brightest as well.”

“What’s its name?”

“Chuseok.”

“Oh,” said Remus. “Alright.”

“You still have no idea what it is.”

“No,” he admitted. For a split second, he saw that Raeun’s face was close to laughing. His heart soared. “But happy early, er —”

“Chuseok,” she repeated. “You could just call it a holiday and leave it there. Besides,” she smirked, and it might have even been a smile, “we’re going to have to run into each other every day soon enough, even besides meals.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Remus realized he was smiling as well. He wondered when the last time had been that he had done that without consciously tugging a grin onto his face.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the evening after the first full moon night. Lupin was half-sitting on the couch in his office, looking like he’d gotten a couple hours of rest after having been run over.

The day before had been rather uneventful, as Chuseok at Hogwarts always was. No one else celebrated the holiday, and it wasn’t as if she could call the staff and students out for a dance under the moon. It would ruin the image. Besides, she had more pressing matters to deal with this year.

She had knocked on Lupin’s office an hour after moonset, a bag full of potions strapped to her robes.

“You needn’t have,” Lupin had managed to choke out past a dry and evidently rather ravaged throat.

“Stop talking,” she had said. After half a minute had passed, she had asked him if he needed water, why in the world he hadn’t already gotten anything to drink yet, and if he knew which of the five different potions she had brought would be the best for his pain.

She returned to his office in the afternoon, with the usual steaming goblet full of the Wolfsbane in her hand and a basket on her other arm. A voice, hoarser than usual, answered her knock.

The two of them had become much more comfortable around each other. Raeun sat with her legs crossed on Lupin’s office chair, letting her long skirt trail down to the floor with her shoes partially hidden behind it.

“Tomorrow’s also a full,” she said, then internally punched herself for stating the obvious. She wished she could be as good as Lupin at conversations. Lupin smiled, his face muscles straining. Raeun wondered if he could see it in her expression, but she could see no hint of condescension. She was starting to think maybe, just maybe it wasn’t all an act.

“Yes.” He sighed.

Lupin then offered her tea, which she got half frustrated, half amused by. She was glad that it must at least mean he was well enough to stand up and walk around his office now.

“How are you, during those nights?” she said.

Lupin took a few moments to respond. He had his hands on his lap and his eyes were tired.

“They’re much better, thanks to the potion, of course,” he said. “They do get a bit… well, lonely? Boring, I suppose?”

“Mm.”

“Just because I’m conscious the whole time but I can’t really do anything.” He gestured with his hands. “You know, paws.”

“I do know.” Raeun almost laughed, and Lupin seemed to perk up behind exhausted eyes. “You don’t have to demonstrate.”

Evening was already threatening to dwindle. Raeun wondered if Lupin had cursed the moon for rising so soon today.

“I brought dinner,” she said, reaching for the basket she had put aside. “In case you’d want to have some food.”

“Oh.” Lupin sat up straighter to peer inside.

“Mostly easily digestible things.”

“Thank you.” Lupin said it quietly, almost breathless. Raeun wondered whether she should take it as a good thing or not that he seemed so surprised. “Isn’t it a bit early for dinner time?”

“I went down to the kitchens. And if you tell me I didn’t have to do that, I’m going to take it straight back,” she added.

Lupin, who had opened his mouth to speak, closed it again and smiled rather sheepishly.

Raeun watched him taking his first few bites in silence.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked after a moment, looking up at her. “Have you already had dinner?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not hungry.”

There was a few minutes of silence. Moonrise was approaching and Raeun could feel it; she wondered if Lupin could as well, the vague sensation that something was washing over you. Or maybe it was much less pleasant for him.

“Not to keep bringing it up,” she said, “but how clear do you think your mind is, compared to… now, let’s say?”

Lupin frowned, as if thinking. “I think,” he said slowly, “that it definitely is less clear when I’m transformed. It’s more… murky, like I have the same set of thoughts but it takes more effort to reach them, if that makes sense.”

“Alright.” She nodded. 

She had expected as much, based on what she knew. The potion was by no means perfect, and a modified version had yet to be developed. She supposed she could leave it at that; it was working the way it should.

She opened her mouth, shut it again. Lupin noticed her hesitation, and his eyes widened at her questioningly. _I’ve done too much reading, is the problem,_ she thought. 

“You said you knew I was a Fox, back when we were at school.”

“Yes, I did.”

She took a deep breath, still totally unsure whether she should keep going, whether she should have brought the subject up at all. She said her next question slowly, trying to see if the words felt wrong on her tongue.

“Do you know there are records of werewolves being of clearer mind when they’re around Animagi, even without the Wolfsbane?”

“Yes,” said Lupin, hesitantly.

“You knew I could have helped you.”

Lupin blinked. He looked up, and there were clouds in his eyes. Feathery and half-invisible, only there when you noticed them, high up in the sky on a sunny day.

“Would you have?”

The next day, when Raeun closed the door to her quarters, she was still wondering if she would come to regret what she had said next.

“Why do you think I mentioned it?”

* * *

The moon rose high and full on Chuseok night. 

The wolf opened his mouth to howl, and the fox shushed him into silence, circling him. His mind definitely was feeling clearer with Raeun by his side, less murky, every stray thought coming into sharp focus. 

_Silver,_ Remus thought, _silvery white as the orb in the sky._ He was unafraid. He counted nine tails. They were a dress, were a veil that trailed behind her as she walked, and her eyes were a midnight black.

 _Am I half of what you are,_ he wondered. He’d pitied Snape, back when they had been students. He felt like an utter fool.

The fox nudged him to his bed, and he climbed onto it. He made a noise, perhaps to say, ‘I’ll be staying right here, don’t worry’. At the sound coming from his throat, she seemed to freeze.

The wolf turned startled eyes upon her as she regained her composure. _I didn’t mean to,_ he might have said, but the words he couldn’t speak seemed to frighten her.

 _Do you still dream of that night sometimes?_

He watched the fox eye him warily, before starting to walk in circles, getting ready to settle down on the floor. So she wasn’t going to share the bed with him. 

_Because I do._

He curled up, making himself as small as he could. _I dream of waking up to the sight of you, torn and turned. I think of what might have happened, how long it would have taken me to rot into nothing. I wish you knew, and at the same time I dread you finding out._ His changed body didn’t feel as alien as he had thought it would. Perhaps he’d become unconsciously used to it. Maybe in the back of his mind, he and the beast were one and the same. 

He tucked his tail in, and risked a glance at Raeun. Her black, beady eyes were still on him, her tails wrapped around and covering most of her body.

 _Happy Chuseok,_ he wanted to say. He realized he hadn’t said it yesterday. The look in his eyes made Raeun blink at him questioningly, and he shook his head a little before burrowing it into his side. 

He felt he couldn’t thank her enough for this come morning, especially after what she had almost gone through during their school years. And for him, gratefulness had always come hand in hand with guilt. He had wondered a few times if his affliction was a kind of reverse payback in a way, for everything he was indebted to.

He had been feeling strange lately, as if he was floating and sinking at the same time. It had been a little less than a couple months since they had met again, and already he couldn’t quite picture not having her beside him. He supposed that was nothing new either. Since he was young he had been too quick to get attached, and afterwards constantly terrified, right up until the inevitable end. 

And he was waiting for this too to end. He should be grateful that he had even gotten this much. He could hear her quiet breathing coming from below, and the sound carried him to sleep.

* * *

“I filled in for you.”

Raeun inwardly cringed as the words left her mouth. She felt that at this point she needed to start writing down conversation starter options on her palm, just to stop herself from saying something so idiotically obvious.

Lupin was lying on the couch, looking less exhausted than he had in the morning. That wasn’t saying much, but at least now he could talk without looking like it was causing him great agony. He had all but shoved out a few words when he first turned back, past a throat ravaged from screams. She had caught a “thank you”, and immediately shushed him, pulling the blanket back over him.

“Thank you,” Lupin said now, and Raeun seriously considered telling him not to say thank you to her ever again. “Very much.”

“I went over werewolves.”

He blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Alright.” Then, “No offense meant, but... why did you jump to that?”

She was certain she had known, or at least prepared, the answer, but her eyes met his and she suddenly blanked. She struggled to remember what she had been planning to say.

“Misinformation,” she managed. “I assumed you’d rather not deal with it.”

He nodded, attempting a smile past his aching muscles. His eyes were kind. _Call me out on it,_ she thought. She was unable to shake it off, the look in his eyes the split second after she had told him. Did he still find her untrustworthy? _Just say it, say you can see right through me. Tell me how dare I._

“Thank you,” he said again. Then, “Happy… ‘Chuseok’ — is that how you say it?”

Raeun blinked, her train of thought halting. She had thought he had forgotten, when he hadn’t mentioned it two days before. And she definitely hadn’t expected him to remember its name.

“It’s close enough,” she said after a moment, allowing herself a slight smile. “And it’s over. Should have said it yesterday, at least, before we were past the holidays.”

“Hm.” Lupin smiled. “I won’t forget the next time.”

“The next time will be a year later.”

He blinked, then smiled. For some reason, it made her stomach clench. 

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose so.”

She stood over him for another moment. Then she reached behind her to drag a chair over, and sat down in it.

“Do you need anything?” she said. “For the pain?”

“No, I’m alright,” he said. “I like your hair today.”

“Oh.” She had tied it back in a long braid, for no particular reason other than nostalgia. She had photos of her mother wearing that kind of hair, and she’d taught herself how to do it, many years back. She pulled it forwards almost absentmindedly, so that it lay over her shoulder.

“Your ribbon.”

“It’s called a denggi.” Again, she inwardly shook herself. _He didn’t ask that._

“Oh, I see. It’s beautiful,” he said. “How do you pronounce that again — if you don’t mind, of course?”

She paused, considering squinting at him. She wished she could perform Legilimency on him, see what he was thinking.

“You don’t have to,” he said hurriedly. His voice still sounded hoarser than usual. “I’m sorry if it came off rude.”

“No,” she said. “It didn’t.” She said it again for him, and he repeated after her, sounding sheepish.

“Not bad.”

“Really?” 

“Mm.” 

“Why don’t you wear your hair like that more often?”

“It’s pretentious.”

Lupin laughed. “Is it?”

“No,” she said, and he laughed again. “But it’s easier to just wear it down, or else simply tie it back.”

“I see.” 

“I’d been meaning to ask,” she said after a pause, “if… another’s presence helped you, last night.”

“It did. I’d been meaning to tell you that,” said Lupin, with a wide-eyed smile. “My mind felt… noticeably clearer than it did before, when I was alone.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, for last night.”

“It wasn’t any trouble.”

They were quiet for a moment. Raeun wondered when exactly she had stopped struggling through silences. Lupin’s office was warm.

“Should you get going?” Lupin said.

“No,” she said.

“Isn’t it time for dinner soon?”

“Yes.” She hesitated. Maybe she had read it all wrong. “If you’d prefer some time to yourself now…”

“No.” The word seemed to burst a bubble that had been blocking her airway. “I was just… just asking.”

“I don’t have to go,” she said.

Lupin smiled, and it looked painless.

“Alright,” he said.

* * *

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you think so?”

They were sitting side by side, at the top of a hill a few miles away from Hogwarts. It had been more than a month since Remus had left dreary back alleys behind bustling streets, but the shower of countless stars still stole his breath away. The moon hung over it all, and he stared at the whole picture for a few moments.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said. 

Raeun’s hair was windswept, and her robes rippled as if they were in water, and she had fins.

“Go ahead.”

“About the pearl,” said Remus. “I don’t know much about it. And when I looked for information —”

“It all sounds rather bad, doesn’t it?” she said.

“I didn’t believe it.”

“Oh?”

“You know I know about all the misinformation out there.” Remus sighed. “I wanted to just ask you.”

“And you believe me?”

He raised his eyebrows, laughed. “Well, I certainly trust you to make the wolfsbane potion for me each month.”

“Hm.”

They were quiet for a moment, and Remus wondered if that was going to be it, if she wasn’t going to answer. His heart sank again; he hated that it did that, about the smallest things.

“Oh,” said Raeun suddenly. “I forgot you’d asked about the pearl.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You just sounded… surprised,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “You did ask the question, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. He didn’t elaborate. That he was taken aback that she had thought back and bothered to remember again.

Raeun was silent for a moment, looking like she was contemplating where to begin.

“Most of the misinformation comes from Muggles’ fear,” she started. “Like the witch burnings in the West. When bad things happened they needed bad omens, causes that had nothing to do with them. And they don’t know about Animagi, obviously.

“We are different from Animagi, though. We’re born, not made. Born with the pearl in our mouths.”

Remus watched her as he listened. She was gazing off into the distance, with no trace of a scowl on her face. He wondered how lucky he was to be able to see her like this, and also how long it would last before he would be left to ponder again, behind walls and closed doors.

“Not all Foxes are wizardfolk. Those who aren’t have to pull their magic from the moon, with the pearls. With those who are, it’s different. We don’t need the moon for magical abilities, and in my case I don’t really think it makes my magic stronger either. But I still have… a tie, to the moon. So I keep it with me.”

“You don’t carry it around, though.”

“No.” She said. “But I still have it.”

“Mm,” said Remus, “I see.”

Raeun stretched like a cat. She looked like she belonged here, the same way she belonged at the staff table back in the castle. One with the hill, with the backdrop of the night sky covered in stars. And Remus wondered again, if he’d ever belonged anywhere.

He had always been grateful just to be included. It didn’t matter that he stuck out like a sore thumb, he’d told himself on the days when it was harder than usual; he was accepted, though it came with conditions, and his wishes respected, if he didn’t act out of line. 

But then he had run into Raeun after so many years, and she was the kind of person who fought, who did not settle, who demanded. Who had found hope and power in the darkest of nights. She had always been like that, Remus knew. He realized now that part of the reason why he’d avoided looking more closely was because he’d always felt small next to her.

Though just now, he didn’t feel like that. She had brought him here with her, and he could feel the night air on his face.

“What?”

“Hm?” Remus blinked.

“You were staring,” she said. “And you had a strange look on your face.”

“Oh.” The wind passing close to them seemed to shiver, and Remus realized that they were both holding their breaths. “I… was thinking.”

“I see.” She smiled; Remus felt his heart stop. “I was, as well.”

There was a split second, before Remus knew she would turn her head back to gaze in front of her.

“Raeun.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask what you were thinking about?”

She blinked. He saw the brightest moon of the year in her eyes, and for the first time in his entire life it felt warm and welcoming.

They took in a shared breath, and — as if there had been something in the air they’d both inhaled — in one motion, they leaned forward.

The moon was half full, and waning. Down in the dungeons of the castle, the pearl shone silver, as if reflecting the light from the night it could not see.

* * *

“Now pull on the loose end.”

“A-ha — it looks kind of off, did I do it wrong?”

“You did good. You just need to straighten it more. Like —” she adjusted the ribbon. “Like this.”

“Oh, okay, I think I’ve got it now. Could I try again?” The sun in his expression. She thought she just might be blinded by it every time she saw it.

“Alright,” she said, pulling on the ribbon to untie it again. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He took it gingerly in his hands, and ran his fingers across the fabric. “I think I can get it right this time.”

Raeun watched him as he slowly went through the steps she had just taught him, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. A thin veil of scars, quite easy to miss at first glance, covered his face and neck. Before, she had tried to avoid focusing on them, for fear of what they represented. Fear of that night, perhaps, and what she could have become. So when she looked now, it felt like she had found a whole new side of him, even though she knew they’d been there all along.

“You got it,” she said. Remus looked up at her.

“Did I?”

“Yes. It looks good.”

Remus let the braided hair fall, then almost absentmindedly reached behind it to touch the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Raeun flinched slightly and he withdrew as if stung.

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said, “it’s okay. That’s okay.” She gestured his hand closer again. She was getting used to it, she thought, but slowly.

It was the day after their night out on the grassy hill. They spent most of the morning going over Remus’s classes.

“You’ve gotten the hang of it quicker than I expected,” she said, looking over his class notes, the assignments he had set. “You’re much better than the last five, that’s for sure,” she added in a mutter, and Remus laughed from across the desk.

At lunchtime, they went up to the Great Hall together, Remus taking his notes with him. The hall felt larger than it usually did, the sudden swarm of people almost jarring in a way that it had never been after a weekend of solitude. It was strange. The hall was flooded with sunlight from outside the high windows, but it was still chilly. 

She left the table first and went back down to the dungeons. Without a word of spoken agreement, Remus knocked on her office door half an hour later. He had brought the papers he needed to grade before Monday. She had been expecting him, she realized. It was terrifying, coming to expect things from people.

The rest of the day was spent with idle chatter and class preparation. After an in-office dinner, they settled side by side on the two-person chair, Raeun fishing a blanket out of one of her desk drawers to cover both of them. The pearl on her desk was starting to glow steadily brighter. She spotted Remus gazing at it, and there was no hint of apprehension in his eyes.

“I could do this for you in the mornings, if you’d like,” he said after a few comfortable minutes of silence, running his fingers down her braid. “And you could wear it to class.”

Raeun laughed.

“Is that a yes? No?” He pulled the blanket more tightly over her, and when he grinned the room became a bit brighter. “I still can’t tell.”

Raeun shifted under the blanket, snuggled into it.

“It’s a maybe,” she said.

* * *

“I wanted to be something,” he said, “I wanted to be something good.”

“I know you did,” she said.

They were sitting up in bed. The sun had not yet risen.

“I still do.”

“Do you think you’ll ever meet your standards?”

 _It doesn’t matter,_ Remus thought. _As long as I meet yours._

Raeun blinked at him. “Don’t,” she said, and Remus looked up at her.

“Hm?”

“Don’t do that.” Her hand was still resting on his arm. “Being dragged around by other people. It’s… it’s never the best thing to do.”

“How did you — I thought werewolves were immune to Legilimency.”

“Much use that is, when your thoughts are always written on your face.” Her voice was still low and soft. Idle ocean waves on a moonlit night.

“Are they?”

“Mmhm.”

“But you used to think my expressions were disingenuous, didn’t you?”

“That was before,” she said, “before I knew.”

“Oh,” he said. _Knew what?_ He wanted to hear it from her, that she didn’t think him to be hiding anymore, that now she knew who he was; but she would probably change the subject if he asked. “Maybe you could give me some lessons sometime.”

“I probably should. If you’re to have any hope of surviving this world.”

“I came this far, didn’t I?”

“With sheer optimism, I’m assuming.”

Remus laughed. “I try,” he said.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Her hand was running down his back absentmindedly, starting up tingles where her fingers brushed over. “How you can keep smiling like that.”

“I have to,” Remus muttered. His eyes had half closed as he felt her touch, and he only half-registered the words he was saying. It was as if they were being pulled out of him. “I’ve had to all my life.”

“To seem non-threatening?”

He shrugged, nodded.

“I’ve always… had to wait for others, to make the decisions for me. My parents, on… whether or not I’d live after the attack, or else get a mercy killing.” Raeun’s hand stalled for a moment before returning, and with his eyes closed, he felt her shifting closer. “Dumbledore determined whether I could attend Hogwarts. Everyone who knew my secret, whether I would be outed or not. Where I lived, where I worked.

So… It never mattered if I’d made up my mind on something, I’d have to do whatever had been decided for me anyway. The best I could do was… make a good impression.”

He opened his eyes slightly, and reached to return Raeun’s embrace. The fabric of her robes was cool to the touch, and it steadied him like nothing else had.

“You don’t have to smile in front of me,” he heard her mutter near his shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Remus chuckled. They shifted, and their faces were an inch apart.

“Alright,” he said. That morning, he smiled so much his face muscles started to hurt.

* * *

“Oh.”

“It’s a _binyeo.”_

“Say it again for me?”

Remus touched the stick with light fingers. It was wooden, under the intricate lines and figures that covered it.

 _“Binyeo,”_ Raeun said again, slowly, and Remus repeated cautiously after her. “You don’t have to say things right,” she added, laughter in her voice. “Plenty of people butcher it much worse than you.”

“Did you make this yourself as well?”

“I bought it in a shop,” she said, “just repainted some parts.”

“I spot a snake.”

“That was there from the start,” she said with mock indignance.

“And if it hadn’t been?”

“... Fine, I might have drawn it on, you win.”

Remus laughed. “Easier to draw than a lioness.”

“And it fits better with the rest,” she said, “don’t you think?”

“I do.”

Outside it was clear and windy. Remus kept glancing at Raeun as they walked. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her out in something other than her usual teaching robes. Today her clothes were cotton white and gold, a light blue dress, pink _goreums,_ colorful sleeves. The fine gold lines in her clothes caught the sunlight as she moved, and she glittered.

“Won’t I be out of place?”

“It’s become a tourist spot over the years anyway.” She looked over at him. He had picked out his least frayed robes; she ran a hand down one of his sleeves and reached over to adjust his collar. Remus chuckled, then turned to look at Raeun when she stopped in her tracks, watching the look in her eyes. He allowed himself to be pulled forwards by his collar — a sliver of land being swept out by the tide.

They continued walking a little down the path past the iron gates. Remus breathed in the late morning air. It was getting colder as autumn progressed, and the leaves were changing colour. He could hear birdsong.

After a while of walking, hand in hand, Raeun stopped again.

“Hold tight,” she said, and he did.

They Apparated into a foresty area, at first glance almost indistinguishable from the path they had stood on moments ago. The ground was sandy dry beneath their feet. Remus looked around and saw people bustling around them, and low buildings some with rooftops covered in hay, others tiled black.

“We’re in the middle of the village,” said Raeun. “Do you want to look around for a bit?”

The unpaved street was bustling with people, like Diagon Alley at the end of August. There were vendors selling various foods and accessories; Remus recognized a stand of _norigaes._ The outside walls that separated the houses from the street were low, and once in a while he spotted people sitting on wide porches, children playing in the yard.

Remus hadn’t worked up the courage yet to ask her if this was a date. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, like Raeun said he tended to do. She had brought up the topic of coming here a few days ago, in the kind of tone that suggested she would clam up if he started asking questions. And of course, he had said yes. 

They had skipped breakfast at Hogwarts, and Remus quickly got rather hungry. Raeun laughed at the sound of his growling stomach, and pointed out the snacks they could get as they continued down the street.

A couple hours later, with rice cakes in their hands and a few new _norigaes_ each, they settled down on the front steps of a model house. Raeun held out some sticky-looking brownish rice wrapped in a leaf.

“Do you want to try some?”

“Oh, what is it?”

“You know, never mind,” she said, wrapping the leaf back over it. “You’re a picky eater, and I didn’t start liking the taste of these until just a few years ago.”

“Okay,” Remus chuckled. “I trust your judgement.”

“Mm,” she smirked as she put the food back inside the box she had pulled it out of. “Saving these for later.”

After they had finished their rice cakes, Remus held still as Raeun started to look for a good place on his robes to tie his _norigae_ to. She shifted closer and his breath caught in his throat.

“Why don’t your robes have any place to tie things to?”

Remus laughed. 

“Here?” She held it to the waist of his jacket.

“Okay.”

“I’m asking you what you think.”

“I like it there,” he said, and kissed her. A couple children giggled as they ran past them onto the yard. The two of them were laughing themselves as they broke apart.

“I think this one will look good on your cloak,” said Raeun, after she had tied the blue norigae onto the little ring she had magicked to the side of the jacket. She was holding up the other one, dark red strings held together with a small golden hoop. “Too bad we couldn’t find a lion decoration.”

Remus laughed. “Wouldn’t wearing a lion on my cloak be a kind of… show of subtle favouritism?”

“Hm, maybe.” Raeun chuckled. “I suppose we have the Heads of House for that.”

“You’re one of them.”

“Shush,” she said. “Don’t make me think about it.”

In the end Remus did indeed ask her if the day had been a date, as they walked to the outskirts of the village holding several more items. The sun was turning orange as it set and was casting long shadows upon the dirt road. 

“What constitutes a date?” had been Raeun’s answer.

“Are you being like that on purpose?” Remus laughed, but his heart was pounding in his chest. “And please don’t answer that with another question.”

“Yes,” said Raeun, her voice quieter. “I mean — about your first question. If you want it to have been, yes.”

After they returned to Hogwarts, they went to Remus’s office together to tie his red-and-gold _norigae_ to his cloak as agreed upon. And afterwards, after things had gone the way they tend to go, she spent the night in his quarters. The night breeze carried into the room through the open window as they lay side by side, and they shivered, but perhaps not from the cold. Raeun fell asleep first, and Remus ran his thumb lazily back and forth over the new accessory on her open robes as the moonlight shone down upon them both.

* * *

October dwindled as the moon waxed once more.

The second full moon they spent together, the fox shared the bed with the wolf. They curled up and lay with their backs against each other, feeling each other’s warmth and listening to slow breathing that were whispers of the land to her, of the sea to him. They fell asleep at almost the same time.

When the sun hit the window of Remus’s office, Raeun squinted her eyes open. The sun lit up the marks on the stone walls, centuries’ worth of memory even magic could not wash away. She had always been a bit frightened of how old Hogwarts was. Now it all felt cozy and familiar, more like an old hut than a towering castle. 

She felt an arm lying across her chest, and shifted to look at the man’s face beside her. He looked peaceful in sleep, though judging by last time he would be terribly wrung out when he woke up.

She lifted her head slightly to check the ancient clock on the wall; it was near eight. Moonset, she knew, had been just before seven. She reached for her wand before laying her head back down on the bed and levitated the sheets up from the floor, pulling them over both of them. She watched Remus’s slow breaths, shallow but even, until she fell back asleep.

About an hour later, she opened her eyes again, blinking against the sun that was now shining directly on her face. Turning sideways, she settled in to gaze at Remus again. Just as she was wondering if it was about time to wake him, he started to stir, grimacing.

She pushed herself up on her elbows, and nudged his side gently.

“Remus.”

He let out a muffled groan.

“I’ll get a painkiller,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Should have put it in the bedside drawer —”

“Mm.” Remus shook his head, eyes still shut. A pained frown had appeared on his face.

“What?”

His fingers half-folded in a gesture that was almost a twitch. _Here._

“I’ll be right back,” she said. The spread of warmth in her chest felt as if she’d inhaled a dose of sunlight. The sun that had always kept her in shadows — now here, just for her.

“Can you sit up?” she muttered, when she had returned to his side. She slowly shifted him into a sitting position using her wand to levitate the pillow, one arm firm behind his back. A groan escaped him again.

“Here,” she said, leaning the bottle back, cradling his head. He looked noticeably more relaxed once it had been drained.

“Lie back down now.”

“Mn —”

“I’ll stay.” 

A smile appeared on Remus’s face, and he reached for her as she held him again.

She climbed gingerly back into bed. The feel of the mattress and sheets was no longer foreign. She felt Remus’s breath tickling the hair on the crown of her head. And he was the warmth, the certainty she’d always been terrified of feeling towards others, that she had always been denied. She raised her head slightly to gaze at the light of day, and thought she must be seeing peace.


End file.
